


Moments Happen Everywhere

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8024041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: prompt: Could you write something about Bran having his hair cut in the Cave (or whetever you like)? With Bran remembering Catelyn and Meera remembering Jojen when cutting Bran's hair. I don't know, something sad but beautiful, romantic or not.





	Moments Happen Everywhere

****

“Because it’s gashly!” Meera cried, climbing in behind Bran. “I swear to the Gods that a small animal is living in here.”

“Then why do you want to take it’s home away?” Bran asked jokingly, resting his hands on top of his head. His hair was beyond dried out and had matted to his head. He could admit that his hair was no source of great beauty and was in desperate need of wash but he’d grown attached to his long hair. “Come one, Meera. This isn’t necessary.”

“Oh yes it is!” Meera quipped. “Very necessary. Even in here, you are a Prince of Winterfell and ought to look princely.”

Bran sighed. He often forgot about the slew of titles that now belonged to him, the things that Robb and his father had been in life, though them both now dead. Lord Stark…. Lord of Winterfell… King in the North… But what did those titles matter when House Stark was believed extinct and Winterfell was burned ruin? Bran was no more a prince than he was any of those other titles. He was just a boy in a tree who had visions and no family left.

A boy who, apparently, was in desperate need of a hair cut.

“Yes, alright.” Bran grumbled. “If it makes you happy.”

Meera beamed down at him and squeezed his forearm lightly. Bran Stark had always been a thin boy, though he had once had defined muscles in his legs and arms from his climbing. Though in the weeks where he’d slept after his fall, those muscles and nearly all his body fat had melted away. The small amount he’d managed to earn back had been lost on the travel North. Sometimes Bran wondered that if his family was even alive if they would recognize him now.

_Mother would know me,_ Bran thought with sudden confidence. _Mother would me anywhere, no matter what I looked like._

Bran let out a yelp as a sudden burst of cold ran down his head. “Sorry! I’m sorry!” Meera cried breathlessly. “I have to get your hair wet to cut it properly.”

“You’ve done this before?” Bran asked, shivering. Meera continued to melt the icicle, attempting to keep the water from touching Bran’s skin. 

“I used to cut Jojen’s hair.” Meera nearly whispered. “I was the only one who could. A servant nearly killed him once when he was four and Father never trusted another one to do it.”

“How did the servant almost kill him?” Bran asked, thinking of the servants back at Winterfell. He couldn’t imagine them ever trying to kill him or his siblings. 

_“_ Jojen had a vision, you know how they make- made him shake.” Meera answered, beginning to widdle the blade against lower strands of Bran’s hair. “Jojen had never had a vision outside of his dreams before that, we hadn’t even know that he could. Father didn’t want to risk serious injury so the job fell to me after that.”

“What about your mother?” Bran asked, realizing that he’d never in all the time he’d know Jojen and Meera, ever heard them talk about their mother.

Meera gave a small “aha!” of success when she managed to finally cut hair free from Bran’s head. “The Lady Jyana was never the motherly type. She hadn’t wanted to marry my father, and I feel that my brother and I were just reminders of her unhappiness.”

“Oh.” Bran said quietly. He knew that his own mother had not been entirely enthusiastic about wedding his father- it had been his uncle Brandon that she’d wanted- but Catelyn had once told him that what made it truly worth it for her was Robb’s birth. Certainly, his parents had fallen in love in time but Bran didn’t believe that Catelyn Stark would ever resent her children for an unsatisfactory marriage.

“Did Lady Stark cut you hair, my prince?” Meera asked, sawing threw another strand of hair. 

“Yes, she cut all our hair… except Jon’s.” Bran replied, trying to remain still as the cold water dripped down his neck and under the furs. “It was one of the only tasks she wouldn’t allow the servants to do. She always said it was good for bonding.”

Bran paused for a moment, worried that he may have offended Meera. She made no comment, merely kept cutting and Bran felt the need to continue.

“She cut mine more than anybody else’s.” Bran said wistfully. “Robb stopped letting her when Theon told him it a babyish and the girls didn’t get their hair cut nearly as often as I did.”

“What about Rickon?” Meera asked.

“Rickon was only three when Mother left Winterfell. He hadn’t had many haircuts.” Bran sighed, cracking the joints in his fingers. “But he’d never let the servants touch him after she left, not for anything.” 

Bran stopped. Thinking about his little brother hurt more than thinking about Robb or his sisters. Robb had been a man grown and his sisters had been too far away for Bran to help but Rickon… he’d been right there and now Bran didn’t truly know where he’d gone.

“Hey.” Meera pressed her hand against Bran’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s alright. Osha wouldn’t let anything happen to him and Maester Luwin was right- you and Rickon needed to separate. You’re too much of a risk together.”

“He should’ve gone to the Wall.” Bran said. “Jon would’ve protected him, I know he would’ve….”

“The Night Watch’s takes no part.” Meera replied airily. “You know this. Besides, Jon wasn’t even at Castle Black- you saved him while we were at the Queenscrown.”

Bran sighed, feeling the chilly air beginning to kiss his neck. He knew that Meera was right of course. “I just wish there was more I could have done to protect him. I’m the only family he really had.”

“Osha will take care of him.” Meera repeated. “You will see your brother again, I promise.”

Bran’s stomach dropped. “I’m sorry. I’m talking about my brother when yours-”

“We’ve all had our losses.” Meera said. “I suspect we’ll loose even more before this Great War of yours is over.”

He felt her press a kiss onto the top of his head. “We must just say strong and keep hope in our hearts.”


End file.
